


Trust Exercise

by SegaBarrett



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt talks Jesse into a "trust exercise".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Exercise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hesychasm (Jintian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jintian/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Breaking Bad and make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: Wrote this for hesychasm's NYR prompt, but this may be fluffier than what they intended.

“How do you feel, Jesse?”

“Like I’m tied to a bed?” 

Jesse scootched up a little further to give his arms a little more slack. This had been Mr. White’s idea, and he’d managed to try and make it sound not nearly as kinky as it actually was. Something about a trust exercise for when they found a new location for the lab.

Though at the moment, Jesse wasn’t feeling particularly trusting. Nor, however, was he feeling worried – instead, he found himself wondering what would happen if the fire alarm went off in the middle of all of this. How often did firemen have to break down doors and untie people from bedposts? 

They were at Mr. White’s condo, and the bed Jesse was currently tied to belonged to him. Off to the side was a night table, filled with a number of objects that Jesse could guess the general purpose of, but nothing which filled him with dread. 

“Have you decided on a safe word?”

Jesse rolled his eyes.

“If I trust you, do I need one?” he shot back. “I thought that was supposed to be the point of this whole thing. Unless you just wanted to tie me up so you can get a crack at the TV.”

“Well,” Mr. White pretended to consider it, “I have been getting tired of your endless watching of… what the hell was that show?”

“ _How I Met Your Mother_? Hey, don’t blame me, Alyson Hannigan’s a hottie.”

Mr. White rolled his eyes. 

“I have all day, Jesse. I don’t have anywhere to be. So unless you just want to sit here and stare at the ceiling, come up with a safe word.”

Jesse sighed, suddenly becoming much more serious.

“Jane,” he murmured, “That’s my safe word.”

Mr. White seemed to pause a moment, as if to reject the choice, but he shook his head and shrugged.

“Then that’s it.”

“So what are we going to do?” Jesse turned his wrists slightly to get a little more flexibility. 

“Well, first, I’m going to blindfold you. And if it weren’t for having to hear the safe word, I’d gag you, too, so stop complaining.”

Jesse smirked.

“Yeah, okay, Mr. White.”

At that, the older man reached out over to the nightstand and retrieved a black blindfold, before leaning in and tying it over Jesse’s eyes.

The younger man tried not to think back to the last time he’d been blindfolded. That had been decidedly un-erotic.

Instead, he focused on what was going on around him. The air conditioner was on, working against the standard New Mexico dry heat that they always had this time of year, and he could hear it petering on and off. He wondered why, if Mr. White had so much money, he didn’t just break down and get a condo somewhere that had central air.   
He didn’t get time to consider that long, because Mr. White was trailing something over his chest. Something soft and light; Jesse assumed it must be a feather of some kind. 

It tickled, which wasn’t quite pleasant and wasn’t quite not. He wanted to swat it off, but given that he wasn’t sure what Mr. White intended to follow it up with, he figured complaining would probably be a bad idea. Instead, he found himself letting out a little giggle and squirming, especially as it brushed against his nipple. Goddamn, Mr. White had figure out that that was, pretty much, his spot.

And, having seemingly figured that out, Mr. White saw fit to give attention to Jesse’s nipples next. He could feel a slight pressure, not quite painful but a little uncomfortable, against his right, and then his left. He figured they must be clamps of some kind, or maybe clothespins. 

He squirmed again, trying to figure out where Mr. White was and what he was up to.

“Ugh, jeez, Mr. White,” he said, “Do you do this kinda stuff often? Is this like, your thing?”

“You should really only speak when spoken to, Jesse,” Mr. White retorted, and it sounded like he was trying for a very intimidating tone; Jesse, however, had seen Mr. White at his scariest, or more technically, heard him, and this was not it.

“Yes, Master,” Jesse shot back. He grinned when he said it; despite the oddness of it all, it was actually kind of fun. Though maybe “fun” hadn’t been exactly what Mr. White had been going for. 

There was a long pause, and then Mr. White sighed and added, “That’s more like it.” Jesse felt Mr. White flick one of the clips, and he flinched as a slight pain ran through his right nipple. He had realized they were sensitive, of course, but hadn’t ever really considered putting them to the test. This whole thing was a little out of his comfort zone. 

After all, the closest he’d ever done to this had been some playful paddling with Jane, and that had been pretty haphazard and off-the-cuff (no pun intended). Mr. White seemed to be taking it a lot more seriously – safe words and everything!

The next sensation Jesse had was that of what felt like graduation tassels rubbing across his chest, and he visualized a flogger, one of the little ones. He couldn’t get the tassel idea out of his mind, however, and he instantly gave it J.P. Wynne’s colors, which was really kind of weird.

He didn’t get much time to think about it, though, as the tassel thwacked against his chest. 

“Yah, shit! Fuck!” Jesse exclaimed, not so much from pain as from surprise – he was starting to see the point of the blindfold because it had come out of nowhere. Another thwack followed, and then a few more soft ones in quick succession as Jesse tried to squirm to avoid them, but failed as he couldn’t see where they were actually coming from. He visualized little red dots appearing over his chest, and that was actually kind of cool, until Mr. White managed to clip his nipple, either accidentally or completely on purpose. 

That time, Jesse let out a “YOW!” and wriggled frantically in his spot. “Hey man, that actually hurt! ‘Trust exercise’ my ass!”

He heard Mr. White chuckle darkly, and he wanted to tie that old bastard up and thwack him and see how he liked it. But the mental image he got when he actually considered it was a pretty weird one, and he wasn’t sure he exactly wanted to see Mr. White with all of his clothes off.

His mentor was definitely getting the better end of the deal, because Jesse was _hot_ , if he did think so himself.

Jesse felt Mr. White trail a hand down his chest, fingertips grazing over the skin, and he moaned against the touch. That was pretty nice, actually. He could get used to that. It projected more warmth than he could recall the other man showing him in recent memory – they weren’t that much of an affectionate pair, most of the time, except when one or the other was about to fly completely off the handle and needed to be reeled in or face certain oblivion. 

“Mmmm, yeah, okay,” Jesse murmured out. He curled his fingers against the bonds and wanted to touch the other man in return, finding himself frustrated when he couldn’t. The sneaky old bastard! This wasn’t a trust exercise! This was some evil plot to get Jesse hot for him. And goddamnit, it was working. It was going to be impossible to get work done in the lab if he kept thinking about this while trying to calculate yields.  
Jesse internally snarked that Mr. White must not be getting any at home. But that didn’t stop him from trying to buck up, buck forward when he felt hands clasp around his cock. 

“You are a fucking…” he started, but it trailed off and into a moan, then a grunt. 

“Language, Jesse,” Mr. White chastised, and Jesse felt a stroke. 

“I can’t really control my language when you’re – fuck!” Jesse cried out again. It was almost too much. With his sight restricted, it seemed as if all of his energy, all of his sensitivity, had floated into his ability to feel. He could sense the other man there, could see him in his mind’s eye, and he jerked up, hard. “Mr. White! Fuck! More, please! I can’t…” His breathing was reduced to gasps, to half-pleas. “I… You’re… This…” Another stroke. “So good I… please.”

“Do you trust me, Jesse?” Mr. White’s voice seemed like it was everywhere.

“Yes!” Jesse cried out. “I trust you.”

He didn’t really have much of a choice. It seemed like the world had been blacked out, other than Mr. White and his hand and his voice and Jesse’s body at his whim. He was keyed up, turned on and he wanted nothing more than to just let go. But he held on, knowing that once he did, this was over and it was back to planning for the lab and his own thoughts and Gale and Gus and Mexico and… 

He forced himself back into the darkness, pressed up against Mr. White’s hand as hard as he could.

The other man had stopped stroking, though, and Jesse gave a loud whine of impatience and frustration.

“Mr. White! Please!”

There was no response, other than a slow tightening of the hand.

“Mr. White! Don’t… gahhhh! I’m so close!”

He could hear Mr. White chuckle; the man was _laughing_ at him. Jesse didn’t want to touch him anymore; he wanted to sock him in the face.

“I’m desperate here! Come on! Please! I’ll do anything!”

Maybe it was that last phrase (he really hoped the older man wasn’t going to take him up on the offer) that stirred the hand, but Jesse felt a last stroke and he jerked forward as he came hard, yelling something that seemed to be some version of Mr. White’s name. It was quickly followed by another yelp as the clips or whatever they had been came off and blood rushed back into his nipples. 

He kept rocking, kept shaking for a while and making low, pitiful sounds, before he calmed and slumped back into the bed from exhaustion. His breath was still rapid, and he felt it slowly go back to normal before he felt the bonds released, and the blindfold taken off. The light actually hurt a little. 

“Ugh, Mr. White,” Jesse grumbled as he looked up at his partner. “I don’t think this is how most jobs do trust exercises.”

“Well, Jesse,” Mr. White replied, his eyes triumphant, “This isn’t most jobs.”

**The End**


End file.
